


The Last Dregs

by cephalopod_groupie



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy tv series
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Romance, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3854296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cephalopod_groupie/pseuds/cephalopod_groupie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Arthur/Trillian fic. This is an alternative outcome to Disaster teleport incident from episode 6 of the 1981 television series. A bit of fluff, but it had to be done. So shoot me, I'm sentimental and love tea-drinking men in dressing gowns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Dregs

A great flash of light rapidly absorbed the forms of the four humanoids. Marvin pressed the ignition on the teleport system and walked away, muttering about the injustice they had done him before he crashed into the nearby sun. After being sucked out into the far reaches of the universe, Arthur and Trillian re-materialized in what appeared to be a warehouse.

"Where are we?" Arthur felt it necessary to inquire.

"A warehouse in outerspace," Trillian said calmly, removing his dressing gown.

"I wonder where the other's are," he said, looking around him while putting it back on.

"Zaphod?"

"Ford?"

"They must have re-materialized somewhere else," she said, slightly dejected.

"I suppose it was to much to ask that we'd all end up in the same place," replied. "I wonder what's in those boxes?"

The boxes actually turned out to be rather large wooden crates with black words stamped all over them. If crates could be made out of anything, it is truly bizarre that the chosen material is most often wood. Although strong, wood (typically made from dead Earth trees), is highly flammable, and certainly not as water resistant as steel or even bomb-resistant-grade plastic developed by the Betelgeusians over 40 years ago. In fact, on the planet Earth, humans have decimated countless acres of oxygen-rich forests for this purpose alone. What they chose to ship inside wooden crates is another puzzling matter entirely.

Arthur and Trillian began inspecting the crates. "Arthur!" she said in her delightfully chirpy American voice, "there's English printing on this!"

"So there is!"

"I bet the improbability factor is pretty high."

Arthur nodded his head pleasantly as he supported himself on his left hand and leaned down to read a haphazardly stamped label.

"'Intergalaxy Traders Inc.' must be the shipping company. 'Port of Loading: Manchester.' Huh?" he looked up at Trillian in disbelief and then back down at the crate, "Port of discharge: Alpha Proxima, 000 936 876 459, Contents: 40/200."

"Arthur, what's 'Rooibos'?"

"I think it's a type of... TEA!" His eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he excitedly looked at the side of every crate. "Assam...oolong...darjeeling...English Breakfast...Earl Grey!" Arthur said as he patted each box. Trillian was a little astonished at his excitement, but she couldn't help smiling. He was walking so excitedly from box to box.

"Is tea that important, Arthur?" He turned around and looked up, grinning broadly at her.

"Oh, Trillian! I'm in heaven!" he cried at the top of his voice, throwing his arms wide. The next millisecond he picked Trillian up off her feet, laughing freely, as he spun her around. She giggled with abandon and it instantly reminded him of the Islington party where he lost his chance with her. He stopped spinning and they were suddenly looking into each other's eyes. The 'beautiful, charming, devastatingly intelligence girl he was after'* was right there in his arms. Zaphod didn't seem to care about her very much, and considering the two-headed egomaniac was nowhere near, he saw no harm in letting whatever was going to happen... just happen. They might be the last humans in the universe for all they knew. They both stopped laughing and smiling and began to feel beautifully awkward. His hands warmed her cool skin as they slid up her bare back. She left her hands where they were, on his dressing gown. She looked at his lips, inviting him to do what he had wanted to do since before the Earth was dust. He gently leaned down and began kissing her. Tenderly, she used her lips to keep him where he was. He felt her fingers reach up and touch some of his chest hair that was sticking out of the top of his t-shirt. Holding her a little tighter, her cool body sent a lovely shiver up his body. She must have felt it too, because she wriggled gently in his arms as they kissed each other even more deeply.

Regrettably, they both pulled away ever so slightly, to catch their breath – but only slightly – their eyes still half mast from pleasure. When they dared look at eachother again, Trillian broke the silence.

"Improbability level of two to the power of one-hundred-thousand to one against and falling,*" she said, ending in a sparkling laugh. Arthur tossed his head back, letting out one deep laugh that echoed through the warehouse. He slowly rested his forehead on hers and Trillian smiled sweetly.

"Come on," he said taking her hand and clearing his throat, "let's open one of these crates."

It was almost the only thing they could do at that moment.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> *Quoted from Douglas Adams
> 
> [Originally published May 15, 2012](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8118312/1/The-Last-Dregs) 


End file.
